


The 40s look good on you

by mtothedestiel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Almost porn, Deancest December, Dominance, Drabble, Dream Sex, Episode: s07e12 Time After Time, Ficlet, Implied Castiel/Dean Winchester, Kissing, M/M, No Plot/Plotless, Short, Suit Porn, Time Travel, deancest, no sub dean, season 10 dean winchester, season 7 dean winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-14
Updated: 2013-12-14
Packaged: 2018-01-04 14:16:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1082001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mtothedestiel/pseuds/mtothedestiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My Deancest December drabble.  "Time After Time" 40s suit Dean and present/slightly future season 10 Dean.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The 40s look good on you

Damn, the forties had been good to him, Dean mused as he raked his eyes shamelessly over own past self.  The sleek part of his hair, the slight nip at his waist that only came from a perfectly tailored vest, the long line of his back beneath that beautiful navy suit.  Cas was right, Dean admitted as he flashed himself a shark’s grin.  This was a good exercise. 

_You’ll think it’s a dream, Castiel assures him, When ‘he’ wakes up in his own time, he’ll barely remember._

Past Dean turned, catching sight of his appreciative future self.  His green eyes sparkle in the warm light of the room, which has mainly escaped Dean’s attention save for the dark wood paneling and the soft sofa. 

“Hi handsome,” Past Dean smirked, chuckling at his own narcissism as he traced a hand languidly down his chest, smoothing his bespoke jacket, “You ever fuck an Untouchable?”

“I have a feeling I’m about to.”  Other Dean’s back hit the wall before Dean even realized he’d crossed the room, pressing himself chest to groin into the rich paneling, mouths meeting hot, wet, and mirror perfect.  Past Dean’s tie was a puddle of silk on the floor before he even had the chance to get his hands on Dean’s own flannel wrapped chest, collar wrecked and open as Dean left a wet trail of bruises up the side of his neck.

“I am gonna _peel_ this suit off you,” Dean promised with a nip just below his younger self’s ear, “Then I’m gonna show you Cas’ favorite move.”

He felt rather than saw when Past Dean’s grin turned predatory against his temple.

“I can’t wait to see you try.”


End file.
